Little Leverage
by rmonroe
Summary: Once upon a time, nine-year-old Eliot had to save his little sister from playground bullies, seven-year-old Alec mis-programmed his remote control helicopter, and six-year-old Parker wanted to learn how her parents met. It's a good thing Nate and Sophie have a lot of patience! A series of AU one-shots featuring our favorite team in a slightly different dynamic.
1. The First Day of School Job

"Finally," Nate said, sinking down on the couch next to Sophie.

"All in bed?" she asked with a small smile, getting comfortable against his side.

He sighed. "In bed. Probably won't be asleep for hours."

"Alec would be if you hadn't let him have that soda right before bed," she said, nudging him gently.

"What was I thinking?" he groaned. "But Parker is too excited to sleep with or without soda and Eliot is too busy thinking up a way to get out of going tomorrow."

She shook her head. "That boy. How bad can the fourth grade be? He's very bright when he sets his mind to it."

"He gets his aversion to authority from you, you know," he said, his hand tightening on her shoulder to let her know he was mostly kidding.

She sat up a little, feigning shock. "Me? I think he gets it from you, Mr. Ford."

Nate raised his eyebrows, thinking of their independent first child. He was the only one of their children he and Sophie shared DNA with. He had been their miracle after years of trying to have children. And even though he'd come pre-mature by emergency c-section, he'd held onto life with the kind of tenacity that made him the boy he was now. Intensely stubborn, but fiercely protective of his family.

"Momma?"

Nate and Sophie looked to the hallway towards the small voice. Five-year-old Parker stood there, her blond hair in unruly tangles as usual, Blues Clues characters cavorting on her pajamas.

"What are you doing out of bed, love?" Sophie asked quietly.

"I can't sleep," she said, bouncing a little, her customary grin spreading across her face. "Can I stay up 'til it's time to go to school?"

Sophie chuckled and patted her lap. Parker took a running leap at them and Nate realized with a disturbing pang that she was getting too big to do that. "School won't start for a long time, sweetheart," Sophie said, brushing hair out of the little girl's face as she snuggled down between them.

"But I wanna be ready!" she said, trembling with excitement.

Nate shared an amused glance with his wife. "Ready for what, Parker? What are you so excited about?"

Parker grinned up at him and shrugged. "Alec likes school so I do too! He says there's toys and recess and they have snacks! Do you think school is gonna have Lucky Charms?"

Nate smiled back at her. She was so different from the little girl they'd adopted just two years ago. When Parker had first come to them from an abusive home, she wouldn't let anyone near her and refused to speak, screaming if Nate or Sophie tried to even come near her. And then one night they'd found her curled up in four-year-old Alec's bed, their heads bent close as they exchanged whispers and giggles. It had taken time but she'd come out of her shell and they'd gotten to know the delightful, spunky kid she was. Now if they could only break her of her habit of stealing things from the house and stashing them in her room. They were both fairly certain that at some point she was going to come home with something from her Kindergarten classroom and they'd have some explaining to do.

"Probably not Lucky Charms," Sophie told her. "But lots of other delicious things, I'm sure."

"Mommy, Alec and Eliot get to come with me, right?" she said, some of her excitement suddenly waning.

"Not in your same class, honey. But they'll walk you in and come get you when school is over. And Mommy and Daddy will walk in with you, too," Sophie assured her gently.

"And pick me up?" Parker asked quietly.

Nate dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "We'll be there. Pinky promise." He held out his finger and Parker looped hers with his, squeezing tightly.

"Are you _sure _school isn't gonna have Lucky Charms?"

Sophie laughed. "Come on, silly. I'll read you one more story and then you need to go to sleep, all right?" She stood, holding out her hand, and Parker bounced up to kiss Nate's cheek before grabbing her mom's hand and heading to her bedroom.

Nate tilted his head back against the couch and closed his eyes, feeling the effects of a long day of making sure the kids were ready for their first day of school.

"Dangit, Alec!"

The sudden shout and accompanying thud had him on his feet and down the hall in a matter of moments toward the boys' bedroom. He flipped on the hall light and opened their door, trying to prepare himself for whatever was on the other side.

Eliot was glaring at angrily at Alec, apparently trying to disentangle Alec's remote control helicopter blades from his hair. Alex popped the controller behind his back, staring wide-eyed at Nate. "Eliot said he was gonna punch me!" he blurted.

"Shut up! Dad, look! He got his stupid helicopter stuck in my hair," Eliot protested, wincing in pain as it refused to come free.

"But Dad! It's not my fault, he -"

Nate stepped forward. "Okay, okay. Both of you just … don't move while I get this out of Eliot's hair."

"If he has to cut it, you're dead," Eliot told Alec, his voice trembling with the injustice of it.

"Hey," Nate said, unwinding the long strands from the rotor. "That's not how we talk to family, Eliot. And Alec, what on earth were you doing flying your helicopter around after bedtime?"

The six-year-old had the good grace to look abashed. "I was trying to program a new flight pattern," he mumbled.

Sometimes Nate wished Alec wasn't quite such a genuis. He'd been like that ever since he was tiny. They'd adopted him when he was only four months old and even at that age he'd been endlessly fascinated with anything that lit up. At the tender age of three he'd dismantled the microwave, and, not long after, Nate's laptop. He was still working on the putting things back together part. "You both need to be sleeping. Big day tomorrow remember?" he reminded them, finally pulling the helicopter free. "No permanent damage, buddy," he said, patting Eliot's head.

The little boy shrugged him off, reaching up to touch his hair and make sure for himself. "You're still in trouble, Alec," he muttered, crossing his arms.

"I want you both to apologize to each other," Nate said. "And I'll be keeping this helicopter for the rest of the week."

"But I didn't _do _anything!"

"Dad, no! I need it!"

"Apologize," Nate said, his voice dropping dangerously low.

With heavy sighs and shuffling feet the boys muttered their apologies. Nate watched them

sulk for a minute before setting the toy on Alec's dresser and crouching down next to them. "Hey guys, I need you in top form tomorrow, okay? You've both been to school before but Parker hasn't and she needs to know her brothers are there for her."

He had their attention. They would do anything for their little sister.

"To be there for Parker, you have to be there for each other. I need to know that you can work together to keep Parker safe. I need to be able to trust you."

Both of them swelled a little, just as Nate thought they might. "You can trust me," Alec said, his dark eyes solemn.

"I won't let anything happen to Parker, Dad," Eliot said. Then he glanced sideways at his brother. "Or Alec."

Nate smiled at them. "That's what I wanted to hear. Now get in bed." He stood and grabbed them both in a quick hug, which Eliot protested. "Tomorrow's gonna be great, guys. Good night," he said, closing the door.

Sophie met him in the hallway, coming out of Parker's room. "Everything all right?"

"I think so. Just a little snafu involving a helicopter and Eliot's hair," he said, unable to keep the amused smile from his face.

Sophie covered her own smile with her hand. "Oh dear. Poor Eliot." She slid her arm around his waist as he put his arm across her shoulders and they headed to their own bedroom. "They'll all be fine tomorrow, right?"

He kissed her temple. "Of course they will. As long as they have each other, they're gonna do great."

* * *

A/N: Apparently, I wrote a Leverage fic. This just spilled out of my brain today, but is anyone up for more of this little AU? I might make it a series of one-shots, so if there's anything you want to see, let me know! And thanks for reading! :)


	2. The Eliot Job

A/N: You guys! Thanks so much for all the reviews! Here's the story of Eliot's birth. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

They'd known since before they were married that they wanted to have kids. It was Nate who first brought the subject up, just after their engagement. "So," he'd said one Saturday morning as they walked through the Boston Gardens. "We should bring our kids here one day."

Sophie hadn't missed a beat. "Oh yes! All seven or eight of them!" she'd replied, leaving Nate stopped in the middle of the path trying to determine how serious she was.

But life was busy and they worried about the right timing to try and add the additional element of parenting into their hectic lives. They'd been married for almost four years before they found time to really talk about it.

"Nate," Sophie had said, tears in her voice. "There isn't going to be a perfect time."

"I know," he'd said, hating that it felt like such a complicated and frightening decision. "Let's try. If it happens it happens, and we'll deal with it like we deal with everything else."

She'd smiled and grabbed both his hands. "Together."

And they'd tried for almost two years. At first, they assumed it was stress from their work, but it became apparent that they were going to need help. They saw a specialist and spent the next year undergoing a variety of disappointing and expensive fertility treatments before their second round of in vitro worked.

They were terrified to hope. It seemed like they had been trying for so long that it would never happen, but they both began coming home with toys and clothes and soon their apartment was filled with expectancy.

When they found out he was a boy they argued over names long into the evenings, Sophie vying for Eliot after her grandfather and Nate for Spencer just because he liked it.

And then, at only twenty-seven weeks, Sophie started bleeding. One of her coworkers at the museum took her to the hospital while she frantically tried to get a hold of Nate before he got on a flight to New York for a trip for IYS. They were wheeling her into emergency surgery when he finally picked up, just before boarding. She was crying so hard he could barely understand what she was telling him, and then they had to take the phone away to go into surgery.

Nate was panicking the entire way to the hospital. He hadn't been able to gather what was wrong from Sophie, but plenty of worst-case scenarios played in his head and he was half sure that by the time he got there both his wife and baby would be gone. After finding out where they were he raced up to the labor and delivery floor, and was nearly run over by a team from the NICU rushing into the surgery.

He tried to follow them, but was told to wait outside. A nurse led him to the waiting room telling him he'd have to be patient and that they were doing all they could. That didn't sound good to Nate.

"Please," he said as the nurse headed back. "Please."

She forced a smile and Nate was left alone.

It was only half an hour before they let him in to see Sophie in recovery, but it felt like much longer. They told him on the way that Sophie had lost some blood but would be okay, and that the baby was in the NICU in critical condition. He didn't know whether to feel grateful they were both still alive or terrified for his son.

Sophie was trembling from pain medication and blood loss, her face pale and frightened. "Have you seen him? Did they let you see him?" she asked as he gripped her hand tightly and bent down to kiss her forehead.

"No, I haven't seen him. They said they were taking him to the NICU but …" He found himself suddenly shaking and he slumped down on the edge of her bed. "Sophie … I …"

She squeezed his hand, tears in her eyes. "He's come this far with us. He has to keep going."

They waited in exhausted, frightened silence for news of their baby for the next hour. They moved Sophie into a room, and Nate could tell she needed to sleep, but that wasn't happening until they knew what was going on.

There was a soft knock on the door and both of them took a deep breath, watching as the nurse that had seen Nate to the waiting room earlier came in.

"Your little guy is doing as well as can be expected," she said, smiling at them. "But things will probably be up and down for the next few hours and days. The doctor, Dr. Call, will be here soon to tell you more. But I thought you might like to see a picture?"

She held her phone out to them and Nate grabbed it eagerly, hardly believing that their baby was even here. They gazed at the picture together, and while it was on a small screen and he was covered in numerous wires and tubes, they could just make out his tiny face.

Sophie gave a small gasp that turned into a hiccuping sob. "Nate," she choked. "Look at all that hair!"

Nate brought the phone closer to his face, cupping it in both hands as if he could hold his son somehow through the picture. "He's … he's beautiful," he whispered. "And you're right. He looks like an Eliot."


	3. What Eliot Does

A/N: Thanks to bats212 for the idea on this one, and for being an intensely awesome person. :)

* * *

"Seven times six is forty-two… seven times seven is forty-nine …"

Multiplication was doing little to distract Eliot from the fall sunshine pouring out on the playground in all its inviting glory. _I knew it,_ he thought, gazing miserably out the classroom window. _I _knew _today was gonna be perfect outside._ He wished he had been more convincingly sick that morning, but his mom always seemed to be able call his bluffs.

"Eliot, eyes up front please," his teacher said, and he dragged his eyes up to the board as she wrote out some kind of graph.

As soon as her back was turned he was looking out the window again, wondering if he could convince his dad to take him camping over the weekend. As he watched, the Kindergarteners started filling up the jungle gym, and he looked closely, hoping he could spot Parker.

She turned out to be easy to find. She wasted little time in getting to the highest point she could - the top of the climbing gym - and perched there, giggling at her peers who tried to do the same, her blond pigtails the color of the sun's rays. Eliot smiled a little, proud that his little sister was the only Kindergartener who could get to the top.

"Eliot, maybe you could help us take a look at this equation," his teacher said, her voice a little less patient.

"Uh," he looked to the front and scanned the board for a moment. "It's seventeen."

She looked surprised. "That's right. Could you tell the class how you figured it out?"

Eliot shrugged. He hated talking in front of the whole class. "It's, okay, well … you just … it's right _there_," he said, gesturing vaguely at the board.

To his gratitude, his teacher just nodded and uncapped her marker. "I think what Eliot means is that if you look here and here …"

Eliot was looking out the window again without even meaning to. He noticed Parker wasn't at the top of the jumgle gym anymore and his eyes scanned the limited view of the playground, feeling unsettled, and suddenly he knew why. A group of kids had Parker cornered against the far fence - he could just barely make out her blond pigtails - and Eliot was on his feet and heading for the door.

"Eliot, where are you going?" his teacher exclaimed.

He didn't answer, even as she continued to call after him, just left the classroom and broke into a run down the hall. He broke out the side door, knowing he was going to get in trouble for running in the halls, and raced across the playground, winding between surprised Kindergartners.

He reached the group harassing Parker and grabbed the first kid he could get his hands on, holding him by the back of his shirt and giving him a little shake. "Hey!" he shouted, the rest of the kids turning toward him.

"Parker," he said. "You okay?"

She nodded, grinning at him. "Uh-huh."

"What're they doin' to you?"

The kid he was still holding spoke up. "We were just -"

"I didn't ask you!" Eliot said, shoving the kid back toward the group. "Parker?"

"They called me weird," she chirped, still cheerful somehow. "And said that I don't have a real family."

Eliot narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenched, trying to remind himself that they were only Kindergartners and he'd been taught not to hurt people smaller than him. "Parker is my sister," he growled, looking them each in the eye. "You try to hurt her, or say anything to her, and I'm always gonna have her back, got it?"

The kids stared wide-eyed at him.

"You do _not_ mess with my family," Eliot said, holding his hand out for Parker to take.

She grabbed it tightly and he walked her back toward the jungle gym, still shooting glares over his shoulder at the bullies.

"Eliot," she said, skipping beside him. "They're just dumb, right?"

He looked at her, seeing the confusion and hurt behind her wide grin. "Yeah, Parker. You're not weird. And they're just jealous 'cause you have the best family ever."

"I know!" she said, letting go of his hand to reclaim her spot at the top of the gym. "Eliot, come play!" she said, pausing for just a second.

Eliot glanced toward the school in time to see the principal and his teacher heading toward him. "I gotta go, Parker," he said, giving her a reassuring smile.

She returned the smile and dashed off, and Eliot headed back to accept his fate.


	4. Bedtime Stories

A/N: Dedicated to Nophiefan who gave me the idea for this one. Thank you all so much for your reviews! You guys are the best. :)

Oh, and I don't own Leverage. Just sayin'.

* * *

"_... and they lived happily ever after." Sophie began to shut the book, hoping Parker would be tired enough now to go to sleep. But Parker's small finger reached out and traced the words she had just read._

"_What's that mean, Mommy?" she asked quietly, studying the picture._

_Sophie sighed. "Happily ever after? It means they were happy because they had each other," Sophie replied, resting her cheek against the six-year-old's head._

"_Are you and Daddy happily ever after?" she asked, still staring at the illustration._

_Sophie smiled. "Oh course, sweetheart."_

"_Did Daddy kiss you like Sleeping Beauty?" she asked, turning back a few pages to see the prince kiss the princess awake._

"_Well," Sophie said, her smile growing. "I kissed Daddy, actually."_

"_An' then you got married?"_

"_Well," Sophie replied. "Not for a while. You see, when we first met, I had a different job."_

The hotel door fell open and Nathan Ford stood in the doorway with a gun.

"That's not really your style, is it?" Sophie said, leveling her own weapon at him and stepping in front of the Botticelli even though she knew he already knew it was there.

"How would you know anything about my style, Miss Devereaux?" he said, taking another step toward her.

She laughed, but her gun didn't waver. "Hamburg? '95? How about Cambridge, '93? You and I have history, Nathan."

"Well, this is where it ends. Hand it over and I'll give you a five-minute lead before I call the police," he said, his pleasant facade gone.

Sophie just smiled. "I have a different proposal."

"_You said stealing is bad," Parker interrupted._

"_It _is, _but I didn't think so back then. I was … well, I was very young," Sophie said, thinking fondly of that first meeting._

"Hand it over, Miss Deveraux. I have a flight to catch."

"But you haven't heard my proposal yet."

Nate took another step. "I don't think you're in a position to make proposals."

She raised her eyebrows, her eyes flicking to her gun. "I'd say we're equals at the moment."

"You have ten seconds to hand that painting over."

"Take me to see _Bradamante _at the Opera Bastille tonight and it's yours," she said, taking a step toward him, enjoying his look of surprise.

"You want … me to take you to an opera?"

She lowered her gun, taking another step so that his was nearly touching her chest. "Yes, Nathan Ford. I want you to take me to an opera."

He stared at her for a long moment, and she stared back, forgetting for a moment about the painting and the gun. Then he slowly shook his head. "I can't trust you to bring the painting. I'm not leaving without it."

She smiled. "Then don't leave."

_Parker looked up at her, her eyes wide and fascinated. "Then what?"_

"_Well, the police showed up and we didn't get to go to the opera," Sophie explained._

_Parker frowned. "That's not a good story, Momma."_

"_Oh really? How would you like it to be different?" Sophie said, trying not to take her daughter's words personally._

"_Well," Parker said, sitting up with no more sleepiness in her eyes. "You would've got to go to the opera. And you would've kissed Daddy and rode a horse. See?" She gestured at the book. "That's what happens in happily ever after."_

"_Don't you remember? We _do _live happily ever after. You see, it was just a few months after that when we found each other again."_

Sophie sat on the park bench, this time in Italy, looking rather out of place in one of her favorite cocktail dresses, and waited.

He didn't disappoint. Nathan Ford strode up to her and sat on the other end of the bench, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"I assume you have a … proposal," he said, looking straight ahead.

She leaned towards him. "I assume you want the Degas. Your clients really should be more careful about where they put their priceless artwork, Mr. Ford."

He turned toward her, the corner of his mouth turned up. "How is it," he said casually. "That you only steal IYS insured artwork these days?"

She didn't allow herself to look fazed by his deduction. "Don't flatter yourself," she said. "But in case you were wondering, La Tosca is playing at the Teatro La Fenice tonight."

His smile grew and he pulled two tickets out of his pocket. "I need to see the painting first," he said.

She smiled smugly. "Fine. Shall we go?"

He stood and held out his elbow. "No tricks, Miss Devereaux."

She took his arm. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"_An' _then _you kissed?"_

"_Well, not until after the opera. The arrangement worked out quite well for both of us. Daddy got the painting, I got my opera." She smiled at Parker. "And now it's time for you to go to sleep, love."_

_Parker obediently crawled under the covers, and Sophie closed the book and kissed her goodnight. "Sweet dreams, Parker."_


	5. The Little Brother Job

Four-year-old Eliot smiled and ducked his head shyly as his parents and friends finished singing him the birthday song with exuberant flourishes.

"Blow out the candles, buddy," his dad prompted him, and Eliot looked at the cake, the four flames dancing temptingly right in front of his nose.

He bit his lip, thinking. He would have to make an especially good wish - it wasn't every day you turned four. He squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly knowing what he wanted, and made the wish in his head. Then he opened his eyes, sucked in a huge breath, and blew out the candles.

Everyone cheered for him and he looked up to see his mom smiling at him, but he was distracted by his dad nudging him over to cut the cake.

"What'd you wish for, Eliot?"

"Can't tell," Eliot said, looking at his dad in surprise. "It won't come true."

Everyone laughed around him, but Eliot's eyes were back on the candles still trickling smoke into the air. He needed his wish to come true, not just for him, but for his parents too.

Later that night, Eliot let his mom stroke his hair as she tucked him in. "Momma," he said, blinking sleepily. "How long does it take for wishes to come true?"

She smiled down at him, pulling his Batman sheets up to his chin. "I think that depends on the wish."

He frowned. "How long will my wish take?"

"Well," she said. "You won't tell me what you wished for so I don't know."

She was smiling and he couldn't tell if she was teasing him or not. He sighed. "_Can't _tell."

"Or it won't come true, I know. Maybe if you just whispered it to me it would be okay," she suggested.

He thought about it. He needed his wish to come true, but he really wanted to know _when_ it would come true. He couldn't wait around forever. "Okay." He waved his mom closer so he could whisper in her ear. "I wished for a brother," he said.

She sat up slowly and he was scared to see tears in her eyes. Had he made the wrong wish? "I'm sorry," he said quickly.

"Oh, no, sweetheart, no," she reassured him, smiling and blinking the moisture from her eyes. "I'm just … I don't know when that wish can come true, Eliot."

He pouted, disappointed. "Can you ask Dad?"

She laughed and he felt relieved that she wasn't crying. But also a little annoyed that she was laughing at him. "I'll do that." She leaned in and kissed his head. "Don't give up on that wish, all right? I won't either."

"'Kay," he mumbled, his eyelids already sliding shut.

Nate awoke the next morning to the sound of his son's door opening and closing and then a stool scraping across the kitchen floor. He feared that didn't bode well. He rolled out of bed carefully to let Sophie sleep some more and headed down the hall. Eliot was perched on top of the counter, carefully poking his birthday candles back into his half-eaten cake, the lighter resting by his small hand.

"Eliot," he said softly.

The little boy's head snapped up and he stared guiltily.

"What are you doing, kiddo?"

"Um … Nothing," he said, looking innocently around the kitchen.

"Eliot, you can _never _play with the lighter. That's only for me or Mom to use, and you know that. So why did you get it out?" Nate said, walking to the counter and leaning in to make sure Eliot knew he was serious.

He sulked, his lower lip poking out the slightest bit.

"Eliot."

He scrunched his small shoulders up, recognizing Nate's stern voice. "I wanna do my candles again," he admitted quietly.

Nate smiled and reached out to ruffle his hair. "Buddy, all you have to do is ask." Nate lit the candles again thinking of what Sophie had told him about Eliot's wish last night. Neither of them had ever heard him mention wanting a sibling before, but apparently he was serious about this. And it wasn't that Nate and Sophie objected to another little one, but after the trauma of Eliot's birth Sophie's doctors had told her it wasn't safe for her to try for another child. But Eliot's wish had already got her talking about adoption.

Nate watched Eliot as he scrunched his eyes shut again, thinking of his wish before blowing the candles out again. He wasn't entirely sure he was ready for another round of the terrifying emotions he'd felt when Eliot came into their lives, but if that's what the rest of his family wanted, he was willing to take a look into it.

_February, 8 months later_

"Eliot! Put that down and find your shoes! We're going to be late!" Sophie called across the kitchen.

Eliot glanced up from whatever imaginary enemy he was battling with his foam sword and frowned.

"Five more minutes!" he said.

"_Now_," Sophie insisted, gathering his juice cup and favorite fruit snacks to take to preschool.

He still hadn't moved. "Can I take my sword?"

"Find your shoes and maybe we can talk," she said, glancing at the clock. If they didn't leave in the next two minutes she was definitely going to be late for an important meeting at the museum with a potential donor.

Eliot was wandering around the living room. "I can't _find _them," he huffed.

"Check your room, hurry! I'm getting your coat," she bustled over to the entryway hoping that by some miracle Eliot had left his coat on its peg. No such luck. "Eliot! Where did you -"

Her phone, which was still on the kitchen counter, rang and she groaned out loud. She really didn't need another distraction. She picked it up and spoke impatiently. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Ford? This is Breanne with the Alliance for Children adoption agency. Do you have a moment?"

Sophie's heart stuttered to a stop, her impatience gone. "Y-yes."

"We have a bit of an emergency, ma'am. We have a four-month-old who's foster mother's health has suddenly taken a turn for the worse. She's in the hospital, and the child is here with us. I know this is such short notice, but you and your husband are at the top of our list and we wondered if you could take him."

Sophie drew in a deep breath, a hand over her heart. "Take him? I … today?"

"Yes, Mrs. Ford. With the understanding that it might be temporary. Just until we can determine the state of his foster mother's health."

Sophie was struggling to process what she was being told. "So, he'll be going back to foster care? He's not eligible for adoption?"

The social worker - Breanne - sighed. "Not yet. His birth mother hasn't filed the appropriate paperwork. She was arrested on drug charges just weeks after he was born, but we're trying to work with her to sign the papers."

Sophie's heart already ached for the baby. But could she handle taking him in temporarily? Could she handle giving him back?

"Mrs. Ford, I'm so sorry. I know this is so much to take in. But do you think you and your husband would be interested?"

"I … I'll call him right now and get back to you," Sophie said.

"Thank you! Do you think you'll be able to let us know by 5 o'clock today?" Breanne asked.

"Yes," Sophie said, practically on accident. So they had just a little over eight hours to decide if they wanted to do this.

"Let me know if you have any questions," the social worker said, sounding relieved. "I'll look forward to hearing from you."

Sophie hung up the phone, her hands trembling. That meeting at the museum was going to have to wait. "Eliot?" she called, skillfully controlling the shake in her voice. "Did you find your shoes?"

Sophie drove to the school to drop Eliot off, giving the little boy a longer hug than usual. Then she drove to Nate's office, hoping he would be in and not on a meeting with a client, but feeling like a phone call just wasn't going to do it for this discussion.

Luck was with her and he was standing outside his private consulting offices, shaking hands with someone as she pulled into the parking lot. She drew a deep breath as she watched him laughing at something the other man said as he left. Fear and hope for the baby Breanne had told her about constricted her heart and she clutched the steering wheel, suddenly unable to leave the car.

But Nate saw her as he turned. After the brief flash of recognition, concern spread across his face and he jogged across the lot to her, opening the passenger side door.

"Soph? What's wrong?" he asked, closing the door behind him and reaching for her shoulder.

She realized there were tears on her face.

"You're scaring me," he said with a little uncomfortable laugh.

"I'm sorry," she managed, his concern making her emotions even more difficult to control.

"Is Eliot okay?" he asked.

She nodded and wiped ineffectually at her face with the back of her hand. "He's fine." She paused, taking a deep breath. "Nate, the adoption agency called. They… they have a baby for us," she said.

He blinked. "The adoption agency? They do? Wh- what - when -"

"Today," she said, swallowing past the burning in her throat. "They just called. They need someone to take him today." She managed to explain what Breanne had told her as Nate studied the dashboard, his expression inscrutable, even to her. "We have to let her know by five," she finished quietly, feeling a little more in control now that she was sharing the decision with Nate.

"Sophie, if we take him in, and he has to go back …" Nate said slowly, dragging his eyes up to meet hers.

She nodded. "Eliot would be devastated."

"It's not Eliot I'm worried about," he said.

"But if we don't help him, who will?" she said, feeling her eyes start to burn again. She didn't even know the baby's name or anything about him, but she knew he was helpless. And she knew she wanted another baby.

Nate sighed. "The social worker said there's a chance he'll be eligible for adoption?"

She nodded again. "I don't know how likely that is." Her phone suddenly sounded an alert and she looked down, noticing it was an email from the adoption agency. "Hold on, maybe they're sending us more information," she said, clicking on the email with a startling mixture of fear and excitement.

"Mrs. Ford, I thought you might want to know a bit more about the baby," she read to Nate. "His name is Alec Hardison, and he was born on September twentieth. His foster mother told us he's always been a good baby as long as he has company. He's healthy and right where he should be developmentally which is a miracle since his mother is suspected of substance abuse during her pregnancy." Sophie paused. "Nate, she included a picture," she said, scrolling down. A round-faced baby stared out of the picture, a grin lighting his face, his dark eyes bright and happy. "Look," she said, turning her phone toward Nate.

He took it, studying the picture for a moment and she watched his face soften. He sighed again, his eyes still on the phone. "Are you sure you can risk it?"

She bit her lip. "Since Breanne called, he's all I can think about. I think we have to try, Nate."

He looked at her and she saw rare fear, but also the beginnings of a smile. "When should we tell Eliot?"

She grinned and threw her arms around him. "Can we go now?"

They drove straight back to Eliot's preschool and his eyes lit up when they both showed up in the doorway of his classroom. They stood right in the hallway, Sophie unable to wait any longer to tell Eliot his wish was coming true.

"Eliot," she said, crouching next to him and bringing up the email on her phone. "Do you remember your birthday wish?"

He nodded, looking puzzled.

She showed him the picture, suddenly feeling her words were wasted on the moment. Eliot gazed at the picture, his eyebrows drawn together. "Who is that, Momma?"

"Buddy, that's your brother," Nate said softly, bending down to look into the little boy's face.

His eyes went wide and he looked at Sophie for confirmation. She nodded. He grabbed the phone out of her hands and brought it close to his face.

"He doesn't look like me," he said after a moment.

Sophie laughed and grabbed him in a hug. "Would you like to go meet him?"

Nate drove back to the house to pick up Eliot's old carseat and Sophie called Breanne back to let them know they were on their way to fill out the paperwork. Eliot asked question after question from the backseat but when Sophie unbuckled him he didn't rush out of the car like she'd been expecting.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" she asked, holding out her hand.

Eliot frowned, staring at the tips of his sneakers.

"Eliot," Nate said. "Don't you want to go see him?"

The little boy picked at a loose thread in his jeans. "Maybe … I could just go to McDonald's."

Sophie shared a confused glance with Nate. "I thought you were excited to see him," she said, reaching out to rest a hand on his knee.

He shrugged.

Sophie suspected she knew what was wrong, but couldn't expect the four-year-old to be able to put it into words himself. "Are you worried about things changing?" she asked gently.

"Aimee said her baby sister cries a lot and it makes her Momma be mad," he said, still refusing to look at them.

"Come here, love," she said, picking him up and lifting him to her hip. He wrapped his arms around her neck and put his head on her shoulder like he only did anymore after a nightmare. "You don't have to worry, Eliot," she said, swallowing her emotions for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. "Momma and Daddy are always going to love you and take care of you, all right? No matter what."

"But what if he doesn't like me?" the little boy mumbled with a sniff.

"He's going to _love _you," she assured him, stroking his hair. "Because you're his big brother and you'll take care of him and teach him how to do so many things."

"Like play swords?" he asked, perking up a bit.

"When he's a little older," Nate spoke up.

"Are you ready now?" Sophie asked gently, feeling the question applied to all of them. Eliot nodded but didn't loosen his hold on her. "Okay. We'll do it together."

"As a team," Nate said.

They walked in and Breane was there to meet them, the baby against her shoulder. She smiled brightly and asked Nate if wanted to hold him, and they sat down, Eliot lifting his head off Sophie's shoulder curiously as Breane handed Nate the baby.

Alec stared up at them with his big dark eyes, and Nate smiled at him, talking quietly. Sophie grinned, watching as Eliot sat up in her lap, studying the baby.

"Here, Eliot," Nate said. "Your turn."

Sophie helped as Nate transferred the baby to Eliot's arms. They stared at each other for a minute and then Alec started to squirm around, his lips in a little pout.

"Talk to him, Eliot," Sophie said gently in the little boy's ear.

"Hi baby," he said softly, offering a small smile.

Alec stilled again, and grinned back, a wide, toothless grin that made Eliot giggle. "Momma!" he exclaimed, turning to look at her. "He smiled at me!"

While Nate and Sophie filled out the paperwork, Breane let Eliot help her feed Alec a bottle which made it difficult for Sophie to focus. But every time she looked back at them, she knew they'd made the right choice. And she knew that if things didn't work out the way they were hoping with Alec's adoption, they weren't letting him go without a fight.

* * *

Tiny Eliot is WAY too much fun to write. Thank you all so much for your reviews! I love every one. :)


	6. A Little Bit Broken

A/N This one is a little darker than the others have been, but still mostly fluffy goodness. I don't know why, but I'm sort of addicted to the little!Eliot/mom!Sophie dynamic.

I appreciate all your reviews and ideas! They keep writing these stories fun. Let me know your thoughts! :)

* * *

For the third time that day, Sophie was nearly in tears. She was staring at the wreckage of yet another of her favorite Christmas ornaments shattered across the living room floor, a wide set of brown eyes watching her and an angry set of blue ones glaring at the floor.

"What did I _just _tell you?" she said, trying to keep the hysteria she was feeling out of her voice.

"Sorry, Momma," four-year-old Alec said.

"No, sorry isn't going to make it okay," she said angrily. "Eliot, I've told you a hundred times today that the living room is off-limits, so why did you think it was a good idea to bring your little brother in here to play baseball?"

Her older son's bare toes poked at one of the pieces of glass, his jaw tight.

"Eliot, don't! That will cut you! You know what, you're going to stay in your room until Dad gets home at least. And no TV tonight!" she said, grabbing Alec and lifting him over the worst of the broken pieces.

"Mom!" Eliot shouted angrily. "That's not fair! Alec's the one who broke the stupid thing!"

All the frustrations of the day welled up in her and she found herself shouting. "You should know better, Eliot! He's only four and you're eight. Room! Now!"

"You like Alec better!" He kicked a piece out of his way furiously and ran down the hall, slamming his bedroom door.

Sophie's eyes welled up and she sank onto the couch, covering her face with her hand and trying to ignore Alec's miserable sniffling on the other end of the couch. She knew tensions in the house were high because of their latest addition but -

"Oh no, Parker," she suddenly exclaimed, remembering what she'd been doing before hearing the crash in the living room. "Alec, you stay right there," she ordered.

She'd been trying to get the three-year-old to eat something besides cereal and had left her alone in the kitchen with the stove on. Fearing the worst, she ran in and looked around frantically, not seeing Parker anywhere. "Parker!" she called, running to turn on the stove before the water she'd started for pasta boiled over. "Come here, sweetheart," she said, trying to sound inviting instead of panicked.

Parker had only been with them for four days, but those days had been difficult to say the least. The little girl refused to speak to any of them, screaming when they tried to touch her or get her to do anything. And she had a disturbing penchant for disappearing. Just that morning she'd made it all the way to the next block before they had found her.

"Oh, Parker, honey," she said again, frightened, angry tears burning her eyes. "Please don't do this right now."

She checked everywhere, even Eliot's room, feeling worse when he pointedly ignored her, his eyes red-rimmed.

"Momma!" she heard Alec call from the kitchen.

She hurried across the living room, one of the pieces of the ornament crunching under her shoe. "Alec, I told you to stay on the couch!" she said.

The little boy was looking up at the fridge. "But …" He pointed. "I finded Parker."

Sophie followed his finger, suddenly seeing the little girl. She had somehow gotten to the top of the fridge, wedging herself in the dusty space under the cupboards above it. Sophie sank against the kitchen table.

"Oh," she said softly, desperately. "Parker, come out of there, please."

The little girl shook her head vehemently, her blond hair falling across her face, and Sophie wondered again what exactly her previous foster parents had done to her.

"She gotta come down," Alec said, still staring up at her. "I's yucky up dere. Give 'er some candy maybe. Or cereal. She likes cereal, 'member?"

Sophie just shook her head as Alec chattered on, wishing Nate hadn't taken his latest case. It was a stressful one and he'd been getting home late, and there were only three days left before Christmas and _so _much to do. With the unexpected arrival of Parker to the mix, it was all Sophie could do not to tear her hair out. And she so wanted to help the little girl feel safe and loved. She just had no idea how.

"Parker?" Alec was calling. "You wanna come down an' play a game wif me?" She didn't respond and the little boy turned to Sophie with a frown. "Momma, she not listenin' to me."

Sophie tried again. "Parker, honey, you're not in trouble. Come down and play a game with Alec?"

The little girl just shrunk further into her hiding spot.

"Alec," Sophie said, feeling defeated. "Stay in here with her for a minute. I need to clean up the living room."

She grabbed the broom and dustpan, feeling the tears that had been threatening spill over onto her cheeks as she leaned over the broken pieces. The symbolism of it wasn't lost on her. Her life felt a bit shattered lately, scattered in too many directions to keep track of with Nate so busy at work, and a new exhibit at the museum. And then there was Eliot who she knew was feeling left out since most of the attention lately had been on Parker, and Alec who was at a taking-everything-apart phase. Sophie felt like it was impossible to give them all what they needed, and it hurt her to see need and pain in their eyes and not be able to fix it.

Alec suddenly ran past at top speed, narrowly avoiding a piece of glass. "Alec! What are you -"

He reappeared with Parker's stuffed bunny, the only thing she'd had at her previous home. If it could be called that. "Got Bunny!" he said, whizzing past again.

Sophie couldn't believe she'd forgotten that. They were learning that there were few things Parker loved, and Bunny was at the top of that list. She followed Alec back into the kitchen, dumping the dustpan into the garbage and standing back to watch.

"Look, Parker!" Alec said, holding her stuffed animal in the air. "I got Bunny for ya!"

Parker peeked over the top of the fridge, her eyes narrowing when she saw someone else in possession of her toy. She shot a glance at Sophie, and Sophie's heart nearly broke when she saw the fear in them. She took another step back and smiled gently. Parker crawled slowly out and down onto the counter before sliding to the floor, surprisingly agile for a three-year-old. Alec held the bunny out, smiling one of his customary giant grins and Parker snatched it, clutching it to her chest before running into the living room.

Sophie and Alec followed her as she went to the hall closet, throwing it open and starting to climb the shelves one-handed, Bunny under her other arm. Sophie hurried forward, worried she would fall. "Parker, what do you want? Tell me and I'll help you," she said, holding herself back from actually touching the little girl.

Parker just whimpered in the back of her throat and looked at Alec.

"Whatsa matter, Parker?" Alec asked. Sophie could see him straining to understand what the little girl needed.

She stabbed a finger upwards and Alec's face lit up."I telled her we was gonna play a game!" he said, grinning.

Sophie smiled back at him, relieved when Parker nodded. She reached up to the top shelf and got down Candyland for them, hoping there were enough pieces left in the game to keep them entertained for a few minutes. She had another broken piece to fix.

She helped them get the game out and took Alec's face between her hands to make sure he was listening. "Come get me if Parker tries to leave. Promise?"

He nodded, his dark eyes serious. It was enough for her. She walked down the hallway and knocked softly on Eliot's door before pushing it open. He was sitting on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest, staring out the window at the cold, cloudy weather.

She sat slowly on the edge of his bed and waited for him to look at her. He didn't. "Eliot," she said softly. "I'm so sorry I yelled at you. You were right. It wasn't fair."

He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

"I know it's hard to be the big brother right now," she said. "But you do _such _a good job. Daddy and I are so proud of you, you know."

He hunched his shoulders and she heard him sniff. They sat in silence for a moment, Sophie hoping it would be enough.

"It's just stupid, Mom," he said suddenly, his voice thick with tears.

"What is?" she asked, aching at the pain she could see coming off his small body.

"Parker," he said.

"Eliot, she's -"

"No, I mean what they did to Parker. Why'd they hurt her? Why'd they make her want to hide?" he asked, finally turning to look at her, his eyes filled with unshed tears.

She reached out and gathered him into her arms, her throat tightening. She hadn't realized how much he knew about Parker's situation. "I don't know, baby. Sometimes … well, sometimes it's just stupid, isn't it?"

He nodded against her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her tightly. "Is she ever gonna be okay?" he asked softly.

Sophie rested her cheek against the top of his head. "I hope so, Eliot. We'll help her together, all right?"

He nodded again, and pulled away, scrubbing at his eyes with the ends of his sleeves.

She stood, wiping at her own eyes. "Want to help me make dinner?" she offered, letting him know he was forgiven for the broken ornament.

His eyes lit up and he slid off the bed. "Chicken parmesan?"

She smiled. "Let's do it. Maybe Parker will try it."

"She probably will," he said eagerly, heading for the kitchen. "It smells super good. An' maybe we could crunch up cereal to put on the outside instead of bread crumbs for her."

Sophie brushed a hand across his head. "That's a perfect idea."

She knew sometimes there were some pieces that couldn't be fixed, but Sophie thought maybe this time their broken pieces could make a whole.


	7. What Eliot Does (part 2)

A/N: Hey, all! Thank you so much for your responses to that last chapter! The reviews and favorites and follows really were wonderful. :) So, Nopheifan brought something to my attention, and that was that I was leaving poor Nate out of the parenting thing! So this chapter will help remedy that. Thanks, Nophiefan!

* * *

Nate sighed as Eliot slammed the door shut after sliding into the passenger seat, his backpack slumped at his feet.

"So why'd you really do it?" he asked, watching his son.

The nine-year-old shrugged.

"You told the principal you did it because Marcus was stupid, which got you suspended, but I think that's not the whole story," Nate commented, starting the car and pulling out of the school parking lot.

Eliot's head remained down, his hair curtaining his face.

"I got in a fight at school once," Nate tried, knowing his son often just needed some time to be able to let the truth out. "The kid was bigger than me. A ninth grader. I was only in seventh. But that kid, his name was Andy, locked my best friend in his locker. So I told him to meet me after school so I could knock his teeth out."

Eliot was peering sideways at him and he knew he had the boy's attention. "Of course," he continued. "Andy didn't wait for after school, he gave me a bloody nose right there and we both got in huge trouble."

Eliot was allowing a smile to creep onto his face.

"But I watched him for weeks after to learn his locker combination and my friend and I filled his locker with cockroaches." Eliot snorted. "Not that you should be getting any ideas."

"S'okay, I already won the fight," the boy muttered.

Nate bit back a chuckle. "You usually do. But son, listen. There are better ways to solve arguments than by hitting people."

"Like filling their lockers with bugs?" he asked, looking up finally with a challenging smirk.

Nate did his best not to look amused. "Like talking about it, or telling a teacher," he said.

Eliot shrugged again. "We _did_ talk about it. But he wouldn't listen."

"So you punched him?"

Eliot started to nod, then thought about it. "I kicked him first, actually."

Nate shook his head. "Okay, buddy, I don't think you're taking this seriously. Remember what we said at the beginning of the school year?"

"Only two fights this year," the boy grumbled.

"And this is your second already, and it's not even Thanksgiving break yet. So you're going to have to miss cooking club this week, and no archery range either," Nate said.

Eliot's head snapped up. "Dad!"

"That's the punishment we agreed on, Eliot. When you get suspended, all weekend plans are off," Nate said, hating the pain in his son's eyes.

"But Marcus said Alec wasn't my real brother!"

_Ah, there it is_, Nate thought.

"Right in front of 'im! And Alec just looked all confused and … and so I kicked him," Eliot finished, seeming to be suddenly drained of energy.

Nate pulled off the road so he could put a hand on Eliot's shoulder and look him in the eyes. "The two of you will never be anything less than brothers," he assured the boy. "Now, it's been a long day for both of you, so what do you say we go pick up Alec and grab some ice cream before we go home?"

The corner of Eliot's mouth quirked up. "Am I still in trouble?"

"Archery is still off, but we'll see about cooking club," Nate said, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "But no more fights, got it?"

Eliot nodded, turning to look out the window.

Nate sighed, knowing this wasn't their last post-fight talk, but also feeling proud of him. Honestly, he wouldn't want Eliot any other way.


End file.
